


5 times Simon thought he was an awful boyfriend, and one time Kieren shows him how ridiculous that idea is.

by Michaelssw0rd



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Halloween Gift Exchange, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Simon being an idiot in love, some angst too though.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says in the title. This story is written in a universe where Amy is alive, and most of the PDS sufferers become warm/alive again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 times Simon thought he was an awful boyfriend, and one time Kieren shows him how ridiculous that idea is.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gorignak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorignak/gifts).



> This is a fic I wrote for Halloween in the flesh gift exchange.Many Many thanks Bethany (worsethanazombie.tumblr.com), who arranged ITF gift exchange for this halloween. She is lovely.  
> The prompt I got was from Brooke (kierenwalkerisliteralsunshine.tumblr.com) was "Domestic scene with Simon and Kieren, like SImon trying to cook for Kieren because "well you asked me to be a normal person for two seconds...do you like it?" followed by general fluff"  
> There is fluff, and dinner scene, and domesticness, but otherwise this story took a life of its own. I hope its still fun to read though.  
> This fic fought me so much, partly because i wrote it in many many pieces because of a schedule that nearly killed me, and partly because the story was stubborn. It was there in my head and won't come out properly in words.  
> I really hope you like it Brooke! Happy Halloween.

"You know what's so annoying. It's that you could be great, if you could just be a normal person for two seconds."

Simon had been lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling for the last hour. For some reason, today, he couldn't help but recall Kieren's words, over and over again. It might be because of how jealous he had been yesterday, when they went to the 'Bleeding Once More' party, for all PDS sufferers who were alive again, which soon turned into a drunk dancing club. More than once- oh who was he kidding, more than half a dozen times women and men, beautiful, gorgeous, men... Men he was sure would be normal people approached Kier, putting their arms around him and whispering in his ears as he danced.

Simon had excused himself from the dancing... he had never been a fan of it, and was instead content just watching Kieren enjoy himself, giving himself up to the music and swaying his body out of rhythm. Every time someone touched the blond though, he wanted to leap from his chair and rip their arms out. Instead, he gripped the the seat of his chair tightly, and saw Kieren smile and shake his head, and point towards him, moving away from the roaming hands politely but surely.

Every time the person he had rejected looked at him with varying degree of venom and disdain in their eyes, and sometimes plain jealousy, he could hear their eyes say... What is this beautiful creature doing with someone like him?

Kieren won't cheat on him. He knew that. But he couldn't help but feel that he wasn't good enough for him. That his amazing, brilliant, and so so so sexy a boyfriend could do a hell of a lot better than the guy who didn't know how to interact with anyone, who didn't know how to go through one day being normal without embarrassing himself. Kieren was a guy who fought blue oblivion to prevent his father any harm, he deserved better than the guy who killed his mother.

He should have someone better.

You could be great....

... could be great...

... great...

Simon rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed. He knew they would be bloodshot, and he had a headache of epic proportions.

He got up from the bed and padded towards the bathroom. After splashing water on his face, he looked in the mirror noticing his eyes- red like he expected-the brown irises still unsettling him after getting used to the whites for so long. He looked normal. No longer did he need any cover up mousse to hide his deathly skin anymore. On his wrists, the scars of needles were still present, but they were a part of him when he was alive, they defined him. He wondered if he wanted them gone, and was not surprised to realize that the answer was in negative.

With a jerk, he took off his shirt and turned around. Turning his head a bit, he could very easily make out the long line of scar on his back... no longer open and spine showing though, but stitched and grafted, but still ugly and disfiguring, because that was the first thing he felt, when he starting feeling again : sharp, agonizing, tearing pain in his back. He had to undergo multiple surgeries, all within a week, to stop the experiment which had saved all the undead, from killing him. He remembered how after the bandages came off, Kieren had kissed every single stitch, and told him how beautiful he was, and how grateful he was for the fact that he was alive, and his.

Simon loved him so much.

If you could just be a normal person for two seconds.

If you could just be a normal person...

... normal person....

... normal....

Simon didn't know what normal was. He had never been normal, not even when he was alive, before he was dead and then undead and then alive again. What he meant is, he had always been an outcast, stuck in his own mind, like a raw nerve of a broken tooth, exposed, feeling everything so acutely, and then trying everything to dull it, running away from everything real, and blocking everything that made him feel at all, drowning himself in anything that would help him numb the pain for a while.

But he didn't want to run anymore.

He didn't want to give Kieren up, didn't want to let someone else have him. He didn't want to be abnormal anymore.

Putting his shirt back on, he moved towards the study. It was time to, as everyone does for any question they don't know the answer to, google it.

* * *

 

1.

 

-They make each other laugh.

Simon gave himself a zero in that. He made Kieren smile sometimes, but laugh... he didn't think that ever happened.

\- Happy couples don't keep any secrets from each other.

They probably don't have enough darkness in their past to hide... probably. Simon had told Kieren a lot of things about his past, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him he had killed his own mother. He didn't think he would be able to survive seeing the look of disgust in the eyes of his one reason to live

\- They don't get excessively jealous... a little possessiveness is okay, but if you feel like hiding their bodies in your trunk if someone lays a hand on your lover, you have a problem.

Simon vividly remembered how his fingers itched to rip the arm out of the socket of the guy whose hand had strayed to the small of Kieren's back last night...

He rubbed a hand on his face in exhaustion. He had googled a list of things normal couples do, and so far, it didn't look promising.

\- They share showers... platonically.

They have done that... Simon thinks in relief. Granted it was when they were still the undead, and anything more fancy than a kiss was out of the question, but they had done that. That was the point.

\- Change clothes in front of each other.

\- Use the bathroom together.

No! Just no.

\- They tell their partner what they ate for lunch.

Why would anyone do that?

-They don't hesitate in telling their partner that they love them.

Simon did... often, and repeatedly. It always embarrassed his boyfriend, but in a good way. Kieren was cherished, and Simon made sure he knew that.

-Call each other embarrassing pet names.

hmm... okay that was something that Simon could actually try...

.

He turned off the laptop, convinced he was way off from being normal, but he knew what to work on now.

When Kieren got home from college- he was in art college, and Simon could not be more proud of him- Simon met him at the door. Kieren sighed when he saw him, and let his shoulders slump, letting the tension drain from his body.

"Hi." He mumbled , before darting forward and touching his lips softly to Simon's.

It was meant to be a chaste kiss, but like always, it didn't stay that way. Simon's one hand wound up in Kieren's and he crushed their mouths together, stealing all his breath, the other cupped and caressed his cheek, his thumb rubbing over his cheekbone.

There were two things Simon remembered vividly from when he first started feeling again. The excruciating pain in his back, and the feeling of Kieren's lips on his own. If one was the worst thing he had ever felt, the other completely balanced it out with how surreal and exquisite it was. Simon had kissed enough people back when he was alive, to know that kisses didn't feel like that. That nothing ever felt like Kieren's lips did. He had thought that just the pressure of Kieren's lips and the sense memory of loss forgotten make outs in his past were the most he was ever going to get and had been grateful for it. Obviously, he had no idea what he was missing.

And now he was addicted.

Kieren's hands softly brushing his shoulders and scratching the hair on his nape made him gentle the franticness of the kiss. He extricated his hands from the blond hair and slowly disentangled himself from where he was wrapped around Kieren. Very reluctantly he moved his lips away, but not before darting back and leaving a closed mouth kiss on them.

Kieren opened his eyes, and smiled dazedly at him,

"Wow. Never saying no to that kind of welcome."

Simon ducked his head, embarrassed at his intensity, but his boyfriend had liked it so he wasn't going to berate himself for it.

Which reminded him,

"No problem smoochy bear." He said the last word in a hushed mumble, not wanting Kieren to hear it, and wanting to get over with it anyway.

"What?"

"Nothing," Simon avoided his eyes, but he wasn't going to admit defeat that soon. "How was your day Sweet Peas."

Kieren looked at him weirdly, but didn't ask, and instead started telling him about art class, going on and on about brush strokes and colours and perspective, which Simon couldn't even hope to understand, but he loved listening to the excited voice, and the abortive half movements of his love.

"So what did you do all day?" Kieren rounded on him.

"Nothing much... research." They were now sitting on the couch, Kiren had put his head in Simon's lap and was staring at his face, reaching up and tracing lines, while Simon slowly brushed his fingers in the hair in his lap. It was sickeningly domestic, but neither of them had ever had domestic relationship before , and they cherished every such second.

"Research?"

"Yeah, not important," he hesitated, but then swallowed and went on, "honey chums."

The fingers listlessly wandering on his face stilled.

"What did you call me?" Kieren asked.

"Honey chums?" His voice was hoarse with nerves.

Kieren just stared at him, his eyes wide and uncomprehending.

"Sweet cakes?"

The eyes widened.

"Smoochy bear?"

A smile slowly, hesitantly, like it did not know if it was what the appropriate response, broke over Kieren's face.

"What are you doing?" he said, the smile slowly transforming into a grin.

"Uh..." He felt extremely wrong footed, "calling you nicknames?"

Kieren laughed, turning his face and hiding it in Simon's thigh, his shoulders slightly shaking. Simon felt his stomach drop... he had messed it up, just like he messed up everything else.

"I am sorry." He said, and something in his voice must have shown his internal emotions because Kieren sobered up very suddenly, and turned around.

"No no no, why are you sorry?" Kieren exclaimed, sitting up, and trying to catch his eye. When Simon kept avoiding it, he sighed and said, "Look, I am the one who should be sorry. It was just...unexpected. So you want to call me nicknames?"

There was a smile in Kieren's voice, and that was what made Simon look at him and nod.

"Okay so this is how nicknames work. What do you call me in your mind when you think about me?"

"Kieren." Simon stated.

"No, I am talking about more in adjectives kind of words."

"Beautiful." Simon didn't even have to think about it. He didn't wait for Kieren to reply and continued, "Gorgeous, lovely, perfect... mine." He barely whispered the last word.

He suddenly felt Kieren's hands on his face, tilting it to look at him, and unreadable emotion on his face.

"Me too." He whispered.

Simon just stared at him, not believing this man belonged to him.

"So," Kieren continued speaking in hushed voice, "Call me that... that's what nicknames are."

And then he bent forward and kissed him again.

"Kieren... love." Simon breathed, when they finally parted, after many many minutes.

"No!" Kieren said sternly. "Not love. My mother calls me love."

That made them both start laughing, and Kieren flopped into his lap again, turning his face in and chuckling, his shoulders heaving.

Could have gone better, Simon though, but at least it wasn't a total disaster. He closed his eyes and let the contentment of loving and being loved in return wash over him.

* * *

 

2.

 

"Take him on a date you idiot. There is no question about that. That's the best thing couples do."

Amy was who he consulted when he thought about what normal couples do.

"A date. Don't tell me you have never gone on a date." Amy is saying over the phone in disbelief.

"Uhh..."

"Oh my God, you haven't have you. How could you two be such idiots. Men." She said in exasperation.

"Amy..."

"Call me beautiful Amy and I might even help you."

"Beautiful Amy, would you please help me?"

"Let me think. Okay yes. Alright. But only because I just realized you have never ever taken my bdff on a date."

"Where should I take him?"

"A road trip, or a picnic. That's where me and Philip went the first time. Granted it was also because I was planning on making him kill me but that's not the point. The point is... take him somewhere romantic. Like the forest or something."

"Okay. Thank you so much. This means a lot."

"Are you daft. Don't thank me. Anything for my lovelies. Anyway, I have to go now. Can't leave Philip alone with the toaster too long."

And with that vague and weird comment, she disconnected the call, leaving Simon flabbergasted, but at least he had an idea what to do next in his mission-to-be-a-normal-person.

It was Sunday, early morning, and Simon stood in the doorway to his room, and just stared for a few seconds. In the middle of his bed, his hair rumpled, face down, his body sprawled messily on messy sheets, lay Kieren. He wanted to do anything but disturb him, so he turned around and headed to kitchen to cook breakfast.

Much later, when they had both relocated to the living room and were watching tv, Simon turned towards Kieren and asked.

"Would you like to come with me to the forest in the afternoon, we could have a picnic?"

Kieren stiffened, and then turned towards him slowly, his eyes wary.

"Why?"

"No reason."

"Would you please not mind if I say no?"

Simon had not realized how much he was looking forward to it until it was taken away from him. His face fell, his shoulders slumped, and he turned back to looking at TV, mumbling a quick, "that's alright... wasn't important."

There was no reply from Kieren for a while, and even through the distance and without looking at him Simon could feel him still tense at his side. After maybe fifteen minutes, he let himself relax and fall back to the sofa. After another ten minutes he slowly shifted until their shoulders were touching. After a few more minutes he bent his face to rest it on Simon's shoulder.

He couldn't stay upset , not at Kieren, so he draped his arm over his shoulder and shifted until he had pulled them even closer, pressing Kieren to his side. They stayed that way for a while, and Simon felt content in the proximity, and considered it apology enough.

"I am sorry." Kieren said, after Simon had completely lost the track of time.

"You don't have to be. It's okay." He replied, still staring ahead.

"Don't you want to know why I said no?"

"I do." Lying wouldn't have helped anyone here. "But I won't be upset if you don't tell me."

Kieren was silent for so long that he thought maybe that is his answer.

"I used to go there with Rick." He said in a small voice. "You deserve to know."

Not knowing what to say to the confession, Simon squeezed the shoulder he still had his arm draped around, trying to get Kieren to understand without words that he gets it,that it is alright. By the soft exhale, and Kieren shifting to snuggle closer to him, Simon was sure Kieren understood what he meant.

* * *

3.

 

They were sitting in the third row from the last, in corner seats, waiting for the movie to start playing. Simon had chosen "Night of the living Dead", because everything made about zombies from before The Rising was extremely unrealistic, partially offensive, and worth a laugh. The local cinema in Roarton, which always had at least a couple of ex-PDS sufferers working in it, got a kick out of playing them.

Kieren was bouncing in his seat, popcorn held in one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other, spilling a couple of popcorns every few minutes. If it continued this way, more popcorns would end up on the floor than in Kieren's stomach, but he didn't seem to care.

"You know how long it's been since I have been out to see movies?", he was saying, his face awash with excitement, "Seriously! Even I don't remember how long it's been. Dad always got DVDs and we saw a lot of TV together, but I haven't been to cinema in forever!"

"Me too." Simon said quietly, not wanting to disturb the bubble of joy Kieren was in.

"You too huh? Why is that? Me, I didn't have any friends who wanted to go out with me. Rick always wanted to go to the pub and all... never to something as girly as watching movies. Why didn't you go?"

Simon swallowed. "I didn't have a very good time before you know... dying. Drugs and depression and homelessness, doesn't really go well with movies , I guess. It never crossed my mind." He shrugged.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Doesn't matter. We are here now." There was satisfaction in Kieren's voice. "Simon." He turned to look at his boyfriend, noticing the joy and the gratitude in his eyes, "Thank you."

"It's not a big deal." Simon had to look away from the intensity of emotion in those eyes. Thankfully, the lights began to dim and the trailers started, distracting Kieren from his avoidance tactic.

After consulting Philip, he had wondered what was the appropriate place to take his boyfriend on a date, and both Philip and the internet informed him that taking your significant other to movies was an good idea. Going by the quiet ball of energy that was Kieren, at his side, he decided he had chosen correctly.

He settled down to watch the movie, enjoying the bad music, and the ambience. It was a while before he noticed that Kieren had stopped moving restlessly. Infact, he had stopped moving at all. Glancing at Kieren's lap he noticed his bag of popcorn was abandoned, everything spilled across his lap and on the floor, and his hands were clutching at the side arms of his seats tightly.

Concerned, he moved to settle his hand over Kieren's and was met with a frantic grasping of his hand, blunt nails digging into his palm by the sheer force of the grip. It was painful, but that was secondary to the fact that Kieren's knuckles were pale, and looking up, so was his face. He looked acutely like he did before his heart had started beating again, all the blood leached from his face, eyes wide open, and even in the shadows and darkness of the theatre, Simon could easily make out the expression on his lover's face...

Using his other hand he rubbed Kieren's hand, and then moving he rubbed his back, noticing the rapid, short breathing slowing down a bit, eyes still looking straight ahead, his finger nails drawing blood from Simon's hand.

As soon as there was an intermission break, Kieren shot up from his seat, and without even muttering an apology or an explanation, he rushed out of the hall. Feeling extremely wrong footed, Simon followed after a while, only to find no sign of Kieren in the hallway, or in lines for refreshments.

Thinking the only place left was the wash rooms, he went in that direction. When he entered, he saw Kieren splashing water on his face, and then looking up in mirror, at his still pale face. That's when he seemed to notice Simon standing at the door.

Gulping, he looked back down, and spoke to the sink.

"I am so sorry."

"What happened?" Simon couldn't help but ask.

"I am...," he paused to clear his throat, "I am scared of the dark, ever since..." his voice was breaking but he kept going, "ever since I woke up in the coffin. Dark and confined places. I am sorry I didn't realize I would feel that way when I agreed to come here with you."

When Simon said nothing, Kieren looked up, looking right in Simon's eyes through the mirror, portraying the regret and the vulnerability, and said once again,

"I am sorry."

Words failed Simon, so he stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Kieren, and tucked his face into his shoulder, and muttered,

"No darling. It is I who should be sorry."

Kieren shook his head, but before he could speak Simon interrupted by saying,

"Let's get out of here yeah? The movie is shit anyway."

"I love you," was all Kieren said to that, and it felt like an exquisite kind of torture to Simon, who returned the sentiment a thousand fold, but failed at being a good, normal, boyfriend, time and again.

* * *

 

4.

 

I am bleeding out,

Gasping, suffocating, crying,

Slowly dying...

But I live on;

Because there is everything that's killing me,

Guilt, sorrow, loss, unrelenting pain,

And then there is you.

 

I see no colours,

No blues, no greens, no pinks, no yellows,

But I know what beauty feels like:

Soft hair, warm lips, a beating heart, a smiling face;

Because there is the rest of the world,

Just black and grey,

And then there is you.

 

I used to have faith,

Blinding, unshakeable, firm,

I kept it close, like a secret,

A lifeline;

But I will burn it all in fire,

Or bury it in ground,

Or throw it away in the sea,

For you;

Because there is what I believe,

And then there is you.

Simon was sitting at the table in Kieren's room, alone. Kieren was still at art class, and wasn't going to be back for a couple of hours still. He looked at the page and pen in front of him, and sighed.

He couldn't even write a few light hearted lines about how much he loved Kieren. It shouldn't come as a surprise really, because he had consistently failed at everything normal people in love do. Normal people in love don't write poetry as depressing and dark as this for their love.

He reread the poem one more time. Dark or not, it was true. What he felt for Kieren could not be expressed light heartedly. Hell! Simon had not done light hearted in his life.

This was stupid.

He crumpled up the paper and throws it into the waste basket, waiting for Kieren to return. To pass the time he started rummaging through Kieren's art books, feeling his heart swell with pride at the beautiful lines made by the beautiful man. There was Amy, smiling brilliantly, a bow in her hair, pink, the only color in the picture where the rest was plain black. Flipping the page, he saw Jem's back, her pony tail felt like it was still swinging. The next page had Amy again, this time her side profile. He kept flipping through the many sketch books, and saw a lot of Amy, Jem, Sue and Steve, Rick, lots of Rick... Some were pictures of Philip, some of even Gary and Freddie, and random people and things from the village: Women from the pub, the couch in Simon's house, an evening sky, a tree, birds, hands and feet...

No Simon.

Not a single drawing of Simon in all the art littered around the room.

Simon got up from where he was sitting on the chair, and not completely understanding what he was feeling, but knowing he didn't want to have company at the moment, he decided to leave.

Good couples communicate. Misunderstandings, and not talking is the main reason for most relationships crumbling.

This was what almost every article he read said. But apparently, Simon could neither express his love properly, nor his disappointment.

He chose silence. Because that's what he did best... not being normal.

* * *

 

5.

 

Cook for him. This was the advice by Jemima, who had not liked him much in the start, but had warmed up to him after he saved Kieren's life.

He likes lamb. She informed him conspiratorially.

Simon knew how to cook, not much, but he could cook enough to feed himself. But he wanted to make this special, so he spent an hour on call with Sue, asking her the exact ingredients she used and her technique.Everyone liked things the best the way their mothers cooked them. He had decided to keep it simple and make roasted lamb chops with mustard sauce, roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes. Classic, but according to his family, Kieren's favorite.

With most of the work done, the roast in the oven, and Kieren due to arrive in a few minutes, Simon starts setting the table. He knew from authentic sources- read internet- that candle light dinners were the norm for romantic dinners, so he put a two pronged candlestick holder, along with the best china he had, and arranged the cutlery in the way he had seen the fanciest of the restaurants do. He put a red wine bottle in the middle of the table and stepped back to admire his work and nodded to himself, satisfied.

He was just turning on the stereo to low instrumental music when his doorbell rang. He met Kieren at the door, kissed him chastely for once, and lead him inside.

"What's the occasion. And is this music I hear?"

"Yes." Was all he answered, nudging Kieren to go to the dining room, while he went to get the roast out of the oven.

When he came to the dining room carrying two plates of food, Kieren was standing next to the table looking, for lack of a better word, dumbstruck.

"Wha..." He looked at Simon, bewildered.

"I cooked you dinner." He smiled, and gestured him to take a seat.

Kieren sat down, still stunned. When he noticed the food ,a grin, slowly but surely crept on his face.

"Lamb! You cooked me lamb! That's my favorite." He exclaimed.

"I know." Smugness wasn't appropriate behaviour but Simon couldn't help himself.

"You asked my Mum didn't you? Don't lie!"

Simon wasn't going to say anything to it, so he just smiled and shook his head.

"Seriously Simon. What are you doing!?"

"Well." He was a horrible liar, so he went with the truth. "You wanted me to be a normal person for two seconds, so here I am. Do you like it?"

Kieren's smile turned naughty, which was sure to knock up Simon's heart rate.

"Darling... Are you wining and dining me?"

"Yes...?"

"You do know you have already gotten into my pants don't you? You don't need to seduce me any longer."

"Maybe I don't need to, but that doesn't meant I don't want to. And you didn't answer my question."

When he looked up at him, he noticed Kieren's ears were tinged pink, and he was avoiding eye contact.

"What question?"

"Do you like it."

"Yes." He said in a quiet shy voice, and Simon felt like his heart would burst from all the love he felt at the moment.

"Good." He said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

He took out the tinderbox to light the candles, and then got up and reduced the artificial light. Kieren's face looked even more perfect in the beautiful play of golden glow and shadows, and he felt like he could stare at him all day without ever needing to look away.

But then the food would get cold.

So he cleared his throat and pointed to the food in front of him with the fork, and started to cut a piece. Even then he focused more on Kieren picking up his knife and fork, cutting a bite, and putting it in his mouth.

The moan that followed made Simon feel suddenly too hot in his skin.

"This is even better than what my Mum makes. Wow."

He greedily cut another bite, and put it in his mouth, talking as soon as he swallowed.

"Don't you feel like food taste extra better now, after being alive again. I can't remember lamb ever being this delicious, this is great. What's the special ingredient?" He asked in a teasing voice. Simon felt concerned he would choke on something, because his voice was getting a little croaky.

"Umm... Mustard sauce?" Simon answered.

Halfway into eating his next mouthful, Kieren looked up at him in horror, his pupils blown wide. Barely managing to swallow, he started coughing.

"Kieren... what's wrong." Simon got up from his seat, going to Kieren to rub his back.

"Allergic..." He said between coughs. "...to mustard."

He grabbed Kieren by his arm, and started supporting him towards the door, half carrying him, knocking down the table in his haste. He didn't even spare a second glance at his barely touched food plate he had spent all day cooking.

Kieren's leg gave out; Simon picked him up and ran.

.

"It was an anaphylactic reaction. Basically his body reacted violently against the proteins found in mustard, and activated a lot of things that are usually used to kill the bacteria, but in the situation of absolute lack of any offensive organism, reacted against his body itself." Dr. Tom Russo told him much later, after Kieren was out of danger.

They had rushed him into a small chamber as soon as he had stepped into the clinic, with Kieren in his arms. The stolen glimpses of Kieren he had managed to see showed him lying in a bed, pale and waxy, with many needles and lines attached to his body. They told him his BP was very low, and his airway was closing up, so they had to intubate him, and give him oxygen, and monitor him for the next half a dozen hours.

Simon had kept sitting rigidly in his chair, darting forward whenever someone came out of the chamber Kieren was kept in. He is currently stable, is all anyone ever told him.

What did stable mean? What exactly were they implying when they said currently? Did it mean he might not remain stable?

Just when he thought he might get out of his mind, trying not to blame himself -because he couldn't have known- but failing, trying and failing to not think about Kieren dying, never recovering, because Simon didn't freaking know Kieren was allergic to mustard, Dr Russo came up to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His heart sank.

Nothing good could ever come out of a doctor looking at you with such sympathy.

"He is out of danger," Dr Russo started saying, and Simon felt immensely grateful that this is what he opened with. The ringing in his ears intensified, before the words finally sank in, and he realized he had not heard a single word of what the doctor had said after it.

"He is alright?" He asked, not noticing when he had gripped the doctor's hand tightly in his.

Dr Russo looked shocked for a moment, and then his expressions gentled.

"Yes he is. The way his body reacted to a known allergen was particularly violent. In all of his record Kieren had never had such a severe episode. I don't have any proof, but I think it's because of the whole, dying and then your body immune system coming alive again... it's extra vigorous in trying to save you. But that just means that sometimes it's extra stupid."

The doctor smiled, and Simon looked at his face strangely. He didn't think his facial muscles would ever stretch that way again.

He had almost killed Kieren.

"He is still unconscious, but you can meet him." Dr Russo told him, when he glanced at the chamber again. All he could do was nod. There was something he needed to do that he should have done a long time ago.

Stepping into the chamber, he saw Kieren, lying unconscious on the bed, IV lines in both of his arms, an oxygen mask on his face, and he let himself be weak one more time. Taking a few steps forward and closing his eyes, he bent his head and kissed Kieren on his forehead, then dragged a chair close, clasped his cold and clammy hand in both of his, and waited.

* * *

+1.

 

Kieren opened his eyes, and felt disoriented for a few minutes. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed, and felt extremely ill at ease. There was something on his face, there were things sticking out of his arm, and there was strange beeping noises around him. Having a profound hatred for waking up in unfamiliar places, he started to panic, and then he felt a pair of hands clasping his own.

His fear settled, and he let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding, and squeezed the hand holding his, startling Simon out of his reverie.

"Hi." He said, but it came out garbled because of the thing on his face, which he was realizing now was a oxygen mask.

Simon leaned forward and removed the mask, "Hi." He replied in a raspy voice.

"What happened?"

"The doctor said it was anaphylactic shock." The grip on his hand tightened for a moment before relaxing, and he looked up to see eyes full of despair.

"Gave you quite a scare huh." He chuckled, which caused the secretions still present in his respiratory tract to become irritating, leading to a coughing fit. Simon got up and rubbed his back, till he stopped wheezing.

"Sorry. I am gross." Lying back down, he tried to lighten the mood, and when Simon didn't reply he continued. "It's a really good thing I didn't die. That would have been a horrible cause of death. Death by mustard. I have to say, death by suicide sounds a thousand times better than that. That was a close call with eternal embarrassment."

He fake shudders, but a look at his boyfriend shows he isn't amused.

"Hey." Stretching his other hand, the one not clutched like a lifeline, he caresses Simon's face, willing him to meet his eyes.

"I am okay. See? nothing happened. All fine."

Simon suddenly looked away, and Kieren could feel the bottom of his stomach dropping. Something bad was about to happen, he knew it.

"I can't do this." Simon said, at length.

"Can't do what?"Apprehension made his voice a bare whisper.

"This. You. "

"Oh."

"You deserve someone better. Someone who can take you out on a date without making it your worst nightmare, someone who can cook you food without killing you. Someone normal."

"I want you."

Simon just shook his head.

"I am sorry Kieren! My love! I love you, but I can't do this, I really can't."

His distress was palpable as he got up from the chair, and turned his back to Kieren.

"Simon..." His voice was pleading; he didn't understand what's happening and why.

"I just..." Simon seemed at loss for words, his shoulders tense, and he suddenly turned around and bent down to press his lips to Kieren's, hard and bruising. It was over before it even starts, before Kieren could respond or relax. And then Simon was turning away again, and moving towards the door.

"Good bye Kieren." He called out, before ducking out of the room and leaving Kieren in shock, and growing sense of loss.

.

Dr Russo kept him for observation for another 12 hours before telling him he was fit to go home. Go home to what? Kieren thought, a half crazed laughter bubbling in his chest. Simon was his home. Had been ever since he had banged on his door and kissed him recklessly, not feeling anything more than a sense memory and yet feeling desperate for the contact. And now, he had lost him.

Why? His brain kept screaming the word on repeat. Why did they always leave? Why couldn't he ever be enough? Why did they always pretend it was for his own good? Why? Why? Why?

Oh who was he kidding. He knew why. He laughed when Simon attempted to give him nicknames, called him weird all the time, and was so clingy it would get on anyone nerves. But he had stupidly thought Simon liked clingy. There was also the fact that he could not get through one single date that Simon arranged for them like a normal human being, or human undead, or whatever. He either had to refuse, or be terrified, or half die.

Why wouldn't he give up on him?

He had thought Simon was different though. Whenever Simon looked at him, Kieren felt like the most beautiful person in the universe, like he was invincible, unique, and brilliant. Nobody else had ever made him feel like that. He had assumed that no matter what, Simon's love for him would overcome whatever differences there were between them, whatever obstacles the world threw at them.

He had never been so sure of someone's unwavering love before.

When he left the hospital, all he wanted to do was run to Simon's house and beg him to take him back. Tell him that he would change, he would become whatever he wanted, if only he wouldn't break up with him. But he knew that that would cross even the threshold of pathetic, and enter the territory of downright degrading.

No! What he needed was some time alone, to think. And then a huge tub of chocolate ice cream, and a ticket to France. This time, nothing would stop him. He knew it was running away, but he didn't care. He was a coward...so what?

Walking with no sense of direction, he reached and entered his home, and climbed up the stairs as if on autopilot. Collapsing into his bed felt like heaven, every muscle in his body aching, even though he had spent the last day lying in a similar bed in the hospital. He rolled onto his side and curled his knees into his chest, and stared at the far corner of his room, trying to get his mind to blank out.

The floor corner was a darker shade than the rest of the floor, probably because of accumulated dust, the wallpaper was coming apart at some places, there was a pencil lying on floor near the waste basket, which had a single crumpled piece of paper in it, the window was open and there was muffled voices of people talking in the street coming up, along with a light breeze which was gently moving the blinds.

Wait a minute.

Why was there a crumpled paper in his waste basket? Curiosity got the better of him - he never threw away any drawing he made, not like this- and he made himself get of from bed and move.

He took out the paper and flattened it, and was surprised to find Simon's writing on it. It seemed like a poem, neatly and painstakingly written.

He started reading. And then reread it, once, twice, three times. By the time he finished, his eyes were wet, and he clutched the paper to his chest.

"Oh Simon."

He started wearing his shoes again confidently, knowing what he had to do. Nobody wrote something like for someone they didn't love. He was sure whatever was wrong, could be fixed. It had to be. He would make sure of it.

.

Ten minutes later, he was ringing Someone's doorbell. After the third time, when no answer came, he started banging on the door with his fist, and called out.

"I know you are in there, you asshole. If you really want to break up with me, you need to do it when I am not half unconscious. So open up or I will keep banging, until we have a crowd here."

A few moments later, the door opened. Kieren was ready to launch into an angry tirade but one look at Simon's face made all of his indignation vanish, and he deflated.

To say he looked like crap was an understatement. He had bags under his eyes he didn't have a mere day ago, and it looked like he had been crying. His hair was a mess, and his eyes looked tired, full of old and new pain.

"You look like shit." Was what he said.

"Yeah." Simon smiled self deprecatingly.

"Can I come in?"

He moved to a side to let him in, and Kieren moved towards the living room. There was a full bottle of whiskey lying on the table, with a tumblr sitting next to it. It looked untouched. Kieren raised his eyebrow at that, giving Simon a meaningful look, who just shrugged.

"I didn't want to dull the pain... for a change."

Collapsing in the sofa, Kieren looked up him and asked, trying not to let his vulnerability show in his voice.

"What does that even mean Simon?"

For a while it seemed like he won't get an answer, but then Simon spoke, staring resolutely at the bottle.

"Back when, before dying, I used to take anything I could to forget... to not feel. I took alcohol, and yes drugs, when I felt even a fraction of what I was feeling today. So I took out the whiskey, and then realized that the idea of forgetting was even more painful than everything else. That I didn't want to forget a single moment of it all." That's when he looked up at Kieren, and continued, "I didn't want to forget a single thing about you."

Kieren forgot to breathe while Simon was talking; it felt like his heart had stopped, and there was a tight ache in his chest.

"But you broke up with me. Not the other way round. I don't understand." He couldn't help but ask, bewildered.

Simon sat down, on a sofa across from him, folded his hands in his lap and stared at them.

"I am not good for you... " He started.

"No ..." Kieren's protest died in his throat at the sharp look Simon threw at him.

"Let me talk. Please." After getting a nod in response he looked down again and continued, "I am not good for you at all. I remember, a really long time back, you asked me to be a normal person for just two seconds. I never forgot it. I have been trying." Here he paused to run a hand through his mess of a hair, and clutched some in his fist and pulled in frustration.

"Christ.I have been trying so hard. But I can't seem to do anything right. Everything I do backfires, and you hate me. Or no, that's not right, you don't hate me. You hate Gary and yet you still draw him. But that's not the point. The point is... I can't do anything right. I can't do anything normal."

He looked Kieren straight in the eye then, "You deserve better. You deserve someone normal. And that's not me."

A stunned silence followed Simon's confession, which was broken at length by a manic cackle that broke out of Kieren's mouth involuntarily.

"That's it?"He hissed, his anger getting the better of him, and stood up.

"This is why you left me alone, and broke up with me, right after I woke up from nearly dying, you dick?"

Simon didn't say anything, just kept looking down, like his fingernails had hidden answers to all the problems of the universe.

Kieren stepped forward till he was towering over Simon, and tilted his face up using a hand on his scalp. There was so much pain, and regret, and vulnerability on the face that greeted him that his heart ached.

"Listen to me, and listen attentively," he caressed the hair under fingers, voice low and intimate, "I love you. YOU. Not the Simon you could be, or the Simon you were. Just you. You are amazing the way you are, and I am sorry if I have ever made you feel like you have to change. I don't care if you are normal or not, because to me you are absolutely perfect."

"But..." Simon started, but Kieren tugged his hair lightly in reprimand.

"Shut up." He said, inching his face closer, Simon's breath ghosting over his lips. "Just shut up."He repeated, his lips almost brushing his with every word.

Moaning, it was Simon who crossed that last few millimeters and crashed their mouths together, his arms winding around Kieren's waist and pulling him closer until he was sitting in his lap.

When they separated, there was so much tentative hope in Simon's eyes that Kieren took his face in his hands and kissed his forehead, and then just to lighten things up a bit, he moved down to leave a sloppy kiss on his nose, making Simon cringe and unwrap his hand from around Kieren's back to wipe his nose.

"Ew." He looked at Kieren accusingly, which made him laugh.

Sobering up, Kieren thought he should make sure they were on the same page, so he asked.

"We need to talk about this still though. What do you think isn't normal? What do you, in your own silly head, think are such flaws that we can't be together because of them?"

"Do we have to talk about this?" Simon inquired quietly.

"Yes."

"Okay." He nodded, steeling himself. "I am awkward and can't talk to your friends or family properly. I have never done relationships before. I am insanely possessive, and hate everyone who touches you. I can't communicate, and I can't take you out on dates, because either you refuse, or you hate it, or you nearly die. You are perfect, and I can't even do bare minimum of what is expected of a good boyfriend."

Kieren couldn't help smiling at the list, but he knew the moment called for seriousness, and he wanted to end this misunderstanding once and forever.

"You are not awkward, you are adorable." He left a chaste peck on Simon's cheek at that, "My family loves you, you saved my life remember? Dad still hasn't stopped talking about it." The other cheek this time, "my friends love you, which considering they are Amy and Philip, shouldn't come as a surprise." His chin, "You don't have to be possessive, because I am yours. I have never been someone's before, nobody has ever wanted me, but I would be lying if i say I don't find your possessiveness very... hot," he breathes the last word in Simon's ear, causing him a shiver a bit, and then kissed it.

"I loved you when you didn't mind me saying no to going to the forest. It was unfair to you, and I was a jerk, but I have memories associated with it and I didn't want them to taint what we have. I love that you understood." He was basically speaking into Simon's shoulder now, and turned to kiss his jaw. "I loved you more, and hated myself a bit when I ruined our movie date. I ruined it. Not you. And you didn't say anything. You were amazing.Are. You are amazing." After kissing the junction of Simon's neck and shoulder he moved back a bit and met Simon's eyes. This last bit was important.

"You cooked me dinner, and just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore... I did. And as for communicating... we are doing that right now aren't we?" He joined their foreheads together, and waited for Simon to nod.

"Yeah." He said after a while.

They stayed like that for a really long time, eyes closed, foreheads joined, Simon's hands on Kieren's back, Kieren sitting on his lap, legs around his thighs on both sides.

"I love you too. So much." Simon said, breaking the spell.

"I know. I read your poem." Kieren answers teasingly, noticing the slight tensing of Simon's posture at that.

"Hey, none of that now. I loved it. It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me." Drawing back he cupped Simon's face in both his palms and said, voice hoarse with sincerity and love "Thank you."

* * *

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

 

A few days later, Simon was walking Kieren home in the early evening. He had dropped over at Simon's house directly from college, but he complained he could never catch up on any homework when Simon was there, distracting him. When Simon protested he did no such thing and that he was just sitting there reading, Kieren informed him matter of factly that Simon was a guilty of being an irresistible distraction just by the virtue of his existence.

He had no answer for that kind of illogical statements.

Anyway, they were walking home that Kieren suddenly remembered something.

"Hey. I have been wondering. Remember the time when you were talking about me not loving you , or what me and Amy like to call the-time-when-Simon-was-incredibly-silly, you said something about me drawing Gary. What was that about?"

Simon's silence clued him onto the fact that there was a story there.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face Simon.

"Come on. We talked about communications now, didn't we? So... what is it?"

"You never draw me." Simon blurted.

"What?"

"I was in your room..." he said hesitantly and then quickly added, "wasn't snooping or anything, just wanted to look at your art. And I noticed, you draw everyone but me. I just wanted to know why?"

Kieren could tell Simon was trying not to show that this was a painful confession, but he was too busy feeling acutely embarrassed to comment on it. Simon noticed his red face and ears, which were practically flaming by now, and stared.

"What is it?"

"It's easier to show you." And with that Kieren grasped Simon's hand tightly in his, lacing their fingers together, and started walking towards his house at a higher pace. He still got a thrill at publically holding hands with his boyfriend. Rick had never allowed that.

"O-o-kay?" Simon said, but he increased his speed without comment.

"Hi Mom. I am home, Simon is with me. We are going to my room for a while." He called out when he entered home, and ran up the stairs, dragging Simon behind him.

Suddenly shy, he hesitated at the door, but he had made a promise of sorts, to show Simon what he meant. And to be honest, he deserved to know.

He moved forwards and dragged the drawer under his bed open, taking out a huge cardboard box. He dumped it on the bed and motioned Simon to come forward.

He took off the lid and turned away, hiding his face while Simon gasped. He knew what was in there. He had drawn it. And painted it. And sketched it. And coloured it, hours after hours, days after days, for months.

The box contained all the art he ever made of Simon, and the number grew exponentially with every passing week. He felt, rather than saw Simon picking up a sketchbook, because he couldn't make himself watch while Simon rifled through what felt like his heart- his most intimate feelings and thoughts. He knew there were pictures of Simon, in every pose, every angle. Uncountable renderings of his eyes, his eyes, his jaw bone, his neck. Many many pages where he had made detailed sketches of his hands, and arms. His personal favourite pieces were the ones where he had attempted to capture Simon's smile. The lifeless drawings never could capture its brilliance even a fraction as good as the real thing, but even the tiny fragment of it was beautiful.

Simon put down the sketch book and went through the sheet after sheet full of paintings of Simon's face, done in different colours, portraying different emotions. But one feeling was overwhelmingly profound in everything he ever made of Simon. Kieren knew that. That was why he had hidden them.

Kieren was hyperventilating by the time Simon closed the lid on the box and turned around.

"Why did you hide them."

"Because they are embarrassing." Kieren back was still towards him, and Simon just slid his arms around his waist and pulled him back until his back was fitting snugly into Simon's front.

"No they aren't. They are lovely. You are lovely." He said.

Thank you... was what he meant.

You are my everything... is what he didn't say.

I love you... Is what Kieren heard, and believed, and never doubted again.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: I am sorry I can't really poem.  
> PPS: I have been crazy busy, like insanely busy these last few weeks so please don't mind any mistakes.  
> PPPS: Those of you who are reading my "I want a new drug, I am so SO sorry, I am gonna finish that story very soon. I just haven't had ANY time to write, and when I did, I wrote this because it had a deadline."


End file.
